


Code 594 - Malicious Mischief

by thegirlnamedcove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Heist, M/M, Porn, Pre Sterek, jokes about porn, lowkey vigilantes, public nuisances, sorta - Freeform, sterekpartners, sterekweek2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 15:03:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12560044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlnamedcove/pseuds/thegirlnamedcove
Summary: “I’m not helping you steal a laptop!”“It’ll be fun, sourwolf, think of it as stealth practice.”“I’ll think of it as a misdemeanor you little shit.”





	Code 594 - Malicious Mischief

“I’m not helping you steal a laptop!”

“It’ll be fun, sourwolf, think of it as stealth practice.”

“I’ll think of it as a misdemeanor you little shit.”

“We are not stealing, we are misappropriating! And you cannot seriously value the law over Cora’s privacy!”

Derek reeled back from where he and Stiles had been huddled together. They'd been on a walk, ostensibly, when Stiles had tugged him through the front doors of the local grocery store and shoved him into the space between a cereal display and the bank of employee lockers along the back wall.

“What does Cora have to do with this?”

Stiles sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Okay, look. I thought you’d be more on board and I wouldn’t have to share details Cora didn’t want shared. The guy by the deli, with the greasy red hair. See him?”

He gestured vaguely, and Derek nodded his assent. He couldn’t smell from this distance, not with the bakery in between him and the stranger, but he  _ looked _ like the kind of guy who would smell like Fritos constantly.

“Well, that guy has been harassing Cora, asking for nude pictures and being a brat the whole time. When she wouldn’t give them to him, he guessed the password to her iCloud and found some pictures she took for an old boyfriend. Now he’s holding them over her head, threatening to post them everywhere if she doesn’t go out with him.”

“ _ What?! _ ” he almost shouted, fangs threatening to drop without his consent.

“Calm the fuck down,” Stiles hissed, “What we are going to do, for your lovely baby sister, is  _ misappropriate _ his laptop and delete them.”

“Okay,” Derek said, breathing through his nose in a bid to keep control, “I’m not saying I’m going to help you. But if I did, how do we know he doesn’t just have them backed up somewhere?”

Stiles shrugged and checked around the corner again. Greasy frito douche was washing dishes now, whistling something chirpy and repetitive as he worked. Derek glanced over at the lockers they were hunched beside, his internal cost benefit analysis tipping in Stiles’ favor.

“If he leaves his accounts logged in on his computer, and statistically most people do, I should be able to access his backup services too.”

“And then I can punch his stupid fucking teeth in?”

Stiles nodded, for once completely serious.

“And then we can punch his teeth in. Now come on, I need your super hearing to listen for the tumblers in the lock.”

It said something about their relationship that Derek had to question, again, how he’d ended up following this skinny, defenseless human around like a lost puppy, jumping on each crazy plan with only nominal resistance. Sure, this time was a good cause, but come on. He was a werewolf, goddammit.

 

***

 

“Okay, let’s get you cracked open,” Stiles murmured to the laptop, running his fingers delicately across the keyboard as it came out of sleep mode, “Reveal to me all of your secrets.”

The screen loaded a picture of a chess piece, and under that a simple button labelled ‘hello’.

“He doesn’t have a password?” Derek gaped at the machine, leaning into Stiles’ space.

“He doesn’t have a password,” Stiles nodded, and a cruel smile played over his face, “Well now he’s just asking for it.”

Derek smacked his arm, but he couldn’t manage to be too upset.

“Just focus on the task, little man.”

“Yeah, okay big guy.”

He clicked around, humming occasionally as he worked, and as soon as Derek saw a flesh colored thumbnail that  _ could _ be Cora he turned his face away completely. They’d taken the laptop to a nearby Starbucks so they could poke around in the guy’s files without fear of discovery, and he focused on the ambient chatter instead as a way to occupy his mind.

“What’s your opinion? Powerbottomglory.com or Gapesandgrapes.com?”

Derek choked on his mocha and coughed against the flood of liquid in his throat. Stiles reached over and pounded on his back absentmindedly, eyes still focused on the screen. When he finally got his breath back he managed a “What?”

“For his new homescreen. I think I know a way to set it so that he can’t change it, and based on his facebook the guy’s a major homophobe. I figure butt stuff will get him the most angry, you know?”

“Um…” Derek blushed, “Either.”

“Hmm,” Stiles pressed his fingers to his lips and squinted at the computer, comparing god-knows-what websites were open in front of him.

“Just pick one and then close the porn,” Derek lowered his voice, “We are in a public venue.”

“You’re so right, I should do something with leather kink in it.”

Three more clicks and a little typing and Stiles had done it. Derek glanced over and blanched at the complicated harness holding a very muscular man open and on display before reaching out and slamming the lid of the laptop closed.

“Are we done? Everything deleted?”

“Yup!” Stiles chirped, and sat back to sip on his own drink, “Didn’t peg you as a prude, funny enough.”

“There are actual children here,” Derek’s voice was practically a whisper now, as if he could get Stiles to quiet down just by example.

“Yeah, but not  _ behind us _ . There’s no one behind us, in fact, no one could see.”

“Still.”

“He deserves it, don’t even front with me Hale. I don’t see what your problem is unless you’re a homophobe too.”

Derek groaned and buried his face in his cup.

“Let’s just finish our coffee and get the damn thing back in his locker.”

 

***

 

They get ninety percent of the way there.

“Stilinski. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Oh, god, the guy’s voice is just as bad as everything else about him. Nasally and low at the same time.

Stiles spun in place, a faux innocent look on his face.

“Nothing really, Jimothy, just hanging out. By the cereal. Really love Count Chocula, that I do.”

“Yeah, okay freak. And I bet it has nothing to do with my open locker?”

Stiles nodded, a Very Serious Pout ™ in place, and Derek had to bite his lip to stop from laughing.

“Oh, for sure, Jimothy. Totally unrelated. Didn’t touch a thing.”

His eyes narrowed and he shoved past, yanking out his things and checking through his bag to make sure his wallet was still there. When he’d fished it out and looked inside he glared at Stiles with all the heat he could muster.

“What the fuck are you up to?” he asked, and then added, “Not cereal, dumbass.”

“You caught us, man. My boyfriend and I came back here to engage in some vigorous oral sex. Seriously, we’re getting good, thinking about going on the competitive circuit. Handstands are involved, Jimothy,  _ handstands _ .”

The redhead screwed up his face into a sneer.

“You know I could call the cops on you for fucking with my stuff, right?”

“For sure. Thing is, I bet you’re hoping for a 488 but at best they’ll probably call for a 594. You’re just not a high priority, you dig? I’m not exactly running a heist here.”

He kept up the glare but was clearly still stuck on figuring out the police codes and Derek snorted. The redhead shot a look his way then quailed at whatever his resting bitch face was doing right that second and shrunk away.

“Whatever, you fucking freaks,” he mumbled, and pushed his way out to the main store, laptop bag slung over one shoulder.

Derek watched him go with an immense feeling of satisfaction. He hadn’t done much, but then he rarely needed to with Stiles in his life. He was a force of nature all by himself, Derek was just along for the ride.

“So what was that guy’s name?”

Stiles snickered, “Jared. Every time we meet I pick a new J name, but I’m running out. Obviously, since I’ve resorted to fake nonsense.”

Derek hummed and fished around in his memory.

“How about Jubilee next time?”

“Jubilee?” his eyebrows shot up, “It’s so...festive.”

“The youngest girl on that million kids and counting show,” he shrugged.

“Perfect. And, hey, you made a pretty good heist partner despite all the bitching.”

“I do not bitch,” Derek cuffed him on the shoulder but he was grinning as he led the way out of the grocery store, “I moan. Much more masculine.”

“I bet you do,” Stiles said under his breath, and Derek smirked.

“You know, if we want to make it to the competitive circuit, we should probably actually practice one of these days .”

Stiles stumbled so hard he nearly plowed into the wall.

**Author's Note:**

> This was fun. Morally gray Stiles is fun. (Personally, I'd call this unambiguously noble, but I've said that about a lot of his actions on the show, and I have been soundly informed I am wrong, so...)
> 
> We're almost done with Sterek Week! And the Sterek Exchange stories drop on Wednesday, and it's too late to join Sterek Secret Santa. Just what am I going to do with myself next week? Probably write Good Place porn. Shit, or get some Christmas knitting done. I am way behind.


End file.
